


Strawberry Jam

by inverted_typo



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anko Family - Freeform, Brothers, DenNor, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Human AU, M/M, Oneshot, Other, Whale Brothers, norway and ice are hella brothers in this tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 16:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3699497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inverted_typo/pseuds/inverted_typo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Lukas had ran to my room and told me to help make strawberry jam was probably one of the best days of my life.<br/>...<br/>We didn’t make strawberry jam anymore. We wouldn’t even buy strawberries. For almost a year, I would subconsciously refuse to recognize what a strawberry even was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strawberry Jam

**Author's Note:**

> This idea totally lept into my head yesterday and I finally had time to write it!! It's kind of a strange twist on a dennor fic, but essentially it was kind of supposed to focus on that but drifted a bit as I actually began to write it.  
> Anyways I really like this one and I hope you guys do too! 
> 
> I do plan on writing another chapter of Frost To-A Second Story? soon, btw.

            When I was very young, hardly old enough to have any credible memories, my mother and older brother would often make strawberry jam together. About once a week, possibly on a Friday afternoon after school, the two would stand by the stove and boil fresh strawberries in a pot. Mother had me seated in a high chair right next to them, that way I could easily watch what they were doing. Of course, I was merely a toddler so I couldn’t exactly participate.

But apparently, Lukas would never fail to grab a small bowl and place a few spoonful’s of jam inside. He’d then give me one of those tiny rubber spoons, insisting to mother that I wouldn’t be left out of the fun. I would probably play with it like any toddler would, stirring it sloppily before getting it all over my face. All in all, it probably just resulted in yet another mess for my mother to clean up. Though, somehow, I’m sure she never minded.

* * *

 

Lukas is actually quite a few years older than me. I was born when big brother was nine and a half years old. That makes him almost an entire decade older. That being said, he had always worn the heavy cape of “responsible older brother” since the beginning of my existence. It was a role he never took lightly. In fact, he honored and obeyed such a role, working to be the best big brother I could have ever asked for.

He played with me whenever I wanted to, pushing me on the swing or helping me color a picture for our parents. When I’d fall down and scrape my knee, crying because the stinging was just too much for my little self to bear, he’d be the one to fetch the band aid and give me a piggy back ride to my bedroom. He’d build pillow forts with me and scare away the evil monsters that I was sure lurked in the depths of my (not very big) closet. When I’d throw any sort of tantrum, Lukas was always there to try to calm me down, even lightly chastising me if he needed to. Sometimes he was even better at it than our own mother.

Finally, when I was old enough, Lukas and mother had to scoot over just a few inches when standing next to the stove. I had to wear an apron two sizes too big, and stand almost tip toed on a stool, but that was perfectly negotiable; because now, I got to make strawberry jam with my big brother Lukas.

The day Lukas had ran to my room and told me to help make strawberry jam was probably one of the best days of my life.

* * *

 

Lukas was a month away from graduating high school. I was almost done with the fourth grade.

My lungs stung when I tried to inhale, my ears were ringing, and my head was pounding. I was trembling violently, unable to see straight for hours. My voice was gone, my voice box swollen and tired. I’m surprised I didn’t rip it in half. I’m sure my little face was red and feverishly hot, as well. I distinctly remember that my hands were cramping from clinging to Lukas’s own shaking form for God knows how long. I could barely feel the crushing embrace my older brother surrounded me in as we collapsed in on ourselves, just as that damn roof had done onto our treasured parents.

I don’t think I would ever cry as much, or as hard as I had done that excruciatingly dark night.

* * *

 

We didn’t make strawberry jam anymore. We wouldn’t even buy strawberries. For almost a year, I would subconsciously refuse to recognize what a strawberry even was.

Lukas had become solemnly reserved in a way I could not understand. He would end up being crushingly protective and there wasn’t a missed opportunity for him to remind me he loved me. But he wouldn’t feel anymore, it seemed.

I never saw him frown, I never saw him smile. I never saw him crinkle his nose in disgust, even if our tiny apartment had been filled to the brim with rotten eggs and sour milk, I’m sure big brother wouldn’t have even flinched. Least of all, I never saw him smile or laugh.

I would only ever overhear him quietly sobbing through our paper thin walls.

Any magical spark of my brother was extinguished. An invisible veil smothered any life Lukas may have had, pushing it deep inside the muted pits of his heart.

* * *

 

Despite everything, somehow, my big brother Lukas still managed to be the best older sibling I could have ever asked for.

He still helped me with my homework. He still put up with a growing child who didn’t exactly know what to do with himself. He guided me the best he could through life’s demanding hurdles. He’d always somehow manage to buy me a special Christmas gift each year, and always made me the best birthday cake. He still even helped me build pillow forts from time-to-time.

I never understood how he managed to do this, especially when the weight of all the grief and depression still shoved down on his shoulders.

We never spoke of our parents. It just wasn’t needed. It was almost as if we could look at each other on a particularly silent day and reassure each other that everything was still okay, and that it was okay to miss them.

* * *

 

Five years passed by its own pace. It was neither long nor quick. It just was five years. Now Lukas was twenty three, and I was merely fourteen years old.

I didn’t know what to do when I saw them in the fridge. In fact, I didn’t even see them until I had to reach behind the milk to look for my yogurt.

I’m not sure how long I stood hunched by the fridge.

Strawberries.

Lukas had bought strawberries.

* * *

 

“What are these?”

I placed the small plastic box in front of big brother. Lukas slowly chewed his sandwich, staring at the box studiously.

“Fruits,” he replied vaguely.

“…”

He continued to eat his sandwich.

“Lukas…they’re strawberries,” I sat down.

“Yeah. They are.”

I sat awkwardly, watching Lukas ignore the fresh strawberries on our table and finish the rest of his lunch.

“Why?”

“They were on sale.”

He stood up and threw his plate into the sink, beginning to rinse it off. I turned around and draped myself over the back of the chair, watching him, knowing to expect more of an explanation when Lukas was ready to share.

He wiped the plate a few times before depositing it onto the drying rack. He didn’t look at me as he finished a few other dishes in the sink.

“Mathias is coming for dinner,” he said.

That was a new name.

“Who?”

Lukas motioned me over to help rinse the dishes after he had washed them. I hopped up and reached over the sink, still not looking at him.

“An idiot I met.”

There was always a small pause between responses anymore.

“Why is he an idiot?”

“Because I say so.”

“Why do you say so?”

“His hair doesn’t make sense.”

I nodded in false understanding.

“Will I like him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to like him?”

“If you want to like him.”

I nodded again. Lukas passed me the last plate before drying his hands.

“Let’s clean a little bit before he gets here.”

* * *

 

Lukas was right. His hair made no sense.

Mathias was a tall man who was too loud and too excited. I was actually quite overwhelmed by the noise in the tiny apartment when he had banged on the door. I was used to it being so quiet…

His hair was everywhere all at once, and I had to watch him closely to prove to myself it wasn’t an actual animal that simply roosted on his skull. When he had burst into our home, he had immediately wrapped Lukas up in a gigantic bear hug.

I was surprised big brother didn’t punch him in the face.

“You must be Emil!” Mathias boomed, towering over me.

I looked up.

“Brother says you’re an idiot,” I deadpanned.

His eyes gleamed, “I see!”

And so dinner was loud and obnoxious, Lukas always scolding and chastising this stranger after almost everything the poor man did. He couldn’t eat right, he couldn’t sit right, and apparently he couldn’t even breathe right.

But I didn’t interrupt.

Something in Lukas’s eyes had settled down quite comfortably. Something I hadn’t seen in so long I wasn’t even sure if I was seeing it correctly. His eyes were lighter now, so much less dull and flat. They almost sparkled when Mathias would lean over and nudge Lukas in the shoulder (only to be swatted away of course).

I decided to go to bed early.

Yet, right after I had brushed my teeth, I peeked down the short hallway to see the back of the couch. I could barely comprehend what I saw.

Lukas had his arms draped around the new man’s neck, allowing the giant oaf to gently kiss him right on the mouth.

I liked to have thought my big brother was at least a little bit happier, and that idea allowed me to sleep peacefully through the night.

* * *

 

The visits from Mathias became more and more frequent, his presence becoming more and more common and habitual. It became rare to not see Mathias at least once a week, twice a week, three times a week. It wasn’t before long that I’d come home to a Dane on the couch reading something on his computer, humming to music that was plugged into his ears. Big brother was usually glued right next to him, working on his own college homework.

They would both say hello to me, and it was now the Dane who would ask if I needed help with my homework. Lukas would at first protest the idea, saying, “Hell no. Don’t you dare spread your stupid to my brother, you idiot.”

Yet, somehow I’d end up in a lengthy tutoring-like session with Mathias, discussing and reviewing the basic concepts of algebra. When Lukas didn’t think I was watching, I’d notice a small, barely visible smile spread across his thin lips. I would begin to notice this smile more and more.

It was also then did we start regularly purchasing strawberries.

* * *

 

It had been six months since Mathias had loudly entered our lives. Six months since I noticed Lukas brightening up, even just slightly. Six months since strawberries were placed into our home once again.

It was nearly my fifteenth birthday. I had spent the day at the mall with my friend Kaoru. It was time for me to go home, though, and Mathias was the one to pick me up.

When I piled into his stupid car, I noticed a very wide, very suspicious grin that practically contaminated his face. I narrowed my eyes.

“…What is that look for,” I questioned.

“Oh nothing~! Lukas just has a surprise for you, that’s all,” he said dumbly.

What an idiot. Why did my brother have to love him of all people?

“Well don’t tell me he has a surprise for me. Isn’t that kind of contradictory of a surprise?”

Mathias winked as he drove to the apartment, shaking his finger.

“Ah-ah! It’s only ruined if I tell you _what_ the surprise is. Silly.”

I rolled my eyes and slouched into the passenger seat. Mathias had turned up the volume on his radio, blaring some trashy Danish rock I couldn’t understand. The ride home wasn’t awkward. It was never really awkward with Mathias.

He just surprisingly knew when to be quiet sometimes.

We eventually entered the apartment. I didn’t notice anything different when I first stepped in. Mathias went ahead of me into the kitchen around the corner. I heard Lukas and Mathias quietly talking to each other as I took off my shoes.

I grimaced a bit as Mathias’s spikey-haired head poked around the corner, a wider grin splitting his face.

“Come here, Emil!”

“Ugh. Fine.”

I turned the corner.

Big brother was standing by the stove, holding a brand new saucepan and wooden spoon. I looked at the small counter to see about two empty mason jars, a big mixing bowl, sugar and a fresh new box of strawberries. My heart nearly stopped. My body went rigid. Someone really should have sat me down for something like this, I could have had a heart attack without proper readiness. I nearly collapsed on the floor right there, tears slowly prickling in the corners of my eyes. 

Lukas became blurry very fast.

“Why don’t we make some strawberry jam?"


End file.
